It's happened.
I've become that angry old lady on the block. You know the one who glares out the window at the street kids riding their bikes, making sure they aren't in her driveway about to clip her twelve year old Honda with their handlebars. The one who rushes out onto the front stairs, clad in slippers and pajamas yelling sternly at the jerks to stop taunting her dog. Yep. That's me now. I'm her. I'm Old Lady Leach. Sigh.
Well, it's not my fault. I was thrown into this situation, really. We moved here over five years ago and each year it's gotten worse. As the cul-de-sac kids get older they apparently get douchey-er. And they're not like Dennis the Menace douchey. I'd kill to have a good-hearted little blondie who accidentally mowed over my flowers (we don't have flowers) with his wagon while trying to catch a "robber". Instead we have this gang of little bastards that I on occasion have wished harm upon. That's right. HARM. Think all the less of me you like - YOU try living here.
The ringleader is appropriately enough the worst one and a complete prick. He's about thirteen I'd guess, scrawny, pants hanging off his ass, ALWAYS on his phone - riding his bike with one hand and texting with the other. He thinks he is the epitome of cool. I will assure all of you - he is not. He feels that the neighborhood is his kingdom. Running into everyone's yard, jumping on fences, spray-painting fences, leaping off front porch railings etc. Never in his own yard, mind you. Then there are his cronies. Because every little prick has to have a cronie or two. There are about four regulars who follow him around like he is the Grateful Dead. They'll do anything he does, says or tells them to do. I watch as they follow almost directly in his footsteps. They are all younger by about two to four years. Then there is this GIRL. And I put the word in capitals because I want to emphasize my disgusted voice while saying it. She appeared out of nowhere at the house across the street about two years ago. We have no idea who she is but she sucks. She's about fourteen and a rotten, rotten witch. Last week she sat in the car in her driveway for about forty-five minutes while the elderly lady/car owner screamed "GET OUTTA THE CAAAAAARRRR" in her less-than beautiful voice. That was such a zen moment for me.
My least favorite activity these freakshows play is "Let's torment Brody". Because my dog clearly doesn't bark enough. He's a German Shepherd/Akita mix. He likes to bark at people that are too near our house, he's a bit protective that way. Hence the sign...
Brody is not a mean dog, he's friendly and adorable, but for obvious reasons we bought the sign. I've caught the kids barking at him before - not a big deal. I don't like it but I understand, they're kids. They're a little old for it, but whatever. Then I caught them taunting him. Yelling at him. And a couple of weeks ago, the ringleader actually cursed a web of profanity at him and then ran up into our yard and jumped onto our chain-link fence - the fence that Brody was behind. While Bro was going ballistic I ran out into the front yard like a snapped lunatic and shouted "You need to knock it off, leave the dog alone!" (Sounds so hilarious to picture but I was shaking and ready to beat someone's ass). They looked at me, in their cool little gang, didn't bat an eyelash, didn't make a sound. Gradually during the following ten minutes they filed into another neighbor's yard. No apology, no whispers, no 'go shit in your hat', nuthin. I was livid.
Yesterday a similar situation went down. The GIRL across the street was standing directly in front of our house dancing around and shouting at Brody to get him to bark. Naturally he did. She then started barking back at him and yelling at him to shut up. After watching her shout and curse at my dog for a couple of minutes I threw open the front door and yelled at her, "You need to STOP yelling at my dog!" She and her friend walked away and I saw her throw her head back laughing. Funny, right? I could have nailed her chubby ass to her tree in that moment. BUT I cooled off in my recliner... wishing that we could sell this house and move. No peace. No peace here whatsoever. And the fact that the parents just don't give a shit crawls right up my spine.
I cannot imagine being a child and disrespecting my neighbors - my mother would have grounded me for weeks. If I saw cars in the driveway I wouldn't set foot on the grass never mind in the driveway or on their FENCE! I would have apologized up and down and been a mortified nervous wreck if a neighbor came out and yelled at me. I am appalled by what the world is coming to. Where are these parents? It's a small street! Lord knows I can hear everyone's fights and tantrums - I KNOW you can hear me shouting at your children after they torture my dog. Get with it, people. I'm putting this sign up tomorrow...
Showing posts with label neighborhood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label neighborhood. Show all posts
March 13, 2012
September 15, 2009
the strangerhood ...
Before you buy a new car - you test drive it a few miles. Before you buy a new couch - you sit on it for a few minutes. Shit, before you order a bottle of wine - you sample it with a sip! Well, it recently occurred to me - about 35 seconds ago - that before you actually purchase a house you should be allowed to live in it. I'm not saying for an entire year, but at least a few weeks. I realize this is all very wonderland-ish but stay with me.
When we were searching for a house, 3 years ago, we did most of our "looking" online. We put in our criteria and made our check-lists. It was a lot of fun figuring out what neighborhoods we liked and seeing how our ideas of 'what the perfect home is' would differ or match. Before long we had narrowed down our search and were ready to take the next step, open-houses.
On one of our notorious Sunday drives, we ended up using a well-known "cut-through" street that I grew up just a few blocks from. I never gave the area much thought, it wasn't exactly on my dream neighborhood list. However, we stumbled upon a nice, out-of-the-way cul-de-sac that I had never noticed before. The open-house sign is what drew my attention on this particular day. We decided, knowing full well that we couldn't afford the house that happened to be "open", to take a walk through for the hell of it. We pretty much fell in love with it. It had everything we wanted and then some. Despite the price tag, we moved in 3 weeks later.
I had always loved the idea of a close-knit community. The neighbor that you could borrow that cliché cup of sugar from, people that you can trust and call upon when you need something, block parties, dinner and drinks together, etc. I had hoped that this cute, little cul-de-sac would provide some of that goodness. Wrong.
We moved in during the cold weeks of December in 2005. We have met two people as of September 2009. "The lady" rolled her window down, to introduce herself, while driving up the street- and "the man" introduced himself to me while I was heading off to work one morning. They were both very nice. I have since spoken to "the lady" maybe twice (hollering hello from the backyard) and I have exchanged waves countless times with "the man" but have had no other contact. Now, I am not trying to play the victim role because I could have totally gone door-to-door with a basket of crap and introduced myself and my husband - but I'm clearly not "that guy".
I do understand that most neighborhoods nowadays do not have these so-called perfect neighbors that I think I am missing out on. I further understand that if it bothers me THIS much I should make the first move by ringing some doorbells and making some small talk. But the truth is - I really don't like anyone else on our street. Now you are thinking, "How can you not like them if you don't know them??" Well, sweet pea, here's how...
House A:
The "two, little kids and a big ol' white trash mama" house. She does nothing but yell at said two, little kids. Riding their bikes - yell. Sitting in their front yard - yell. Playing with their friends - yell. These kids can't swallow without getting yelled at.
House B:
The "I love to detail my car four times a week with T-Pain blasting out of my trunk" house. Yep. This kid washes his car like sixty-two times a month. Not only does he enjoy a super clean vehicle but he loves blaring the WORST possible music ever created. Lucky for me, he upgrades his speakers on the daily so I can hear those computer-generated voices CRYSTAL clear.
House C:
The "my family grows by the second" house. I thought only four people moved in but somehow there are eleven thousand current occupants. It used to be two children playing basketball - the other night it looked like The Knicks were out there.
House D:
The "no matter what you say, Mom, I'm going to give you the hugest attitude at the highest decibel" house. Well that one pretty much speaks for itself.
Anyway, you get what I am saying. Things aren't always as they seem. I felt so confident in our decision to buy this house and create our "home" here. We are happy for the most part.Well, I won't lie and say that I wouldn't love for someone to make eye contact with me for a smile or a wave. Or that when I have shoveled for two and a half hours and have barely made a dent that I wouldn't love for someone to bring over their snow-blower for eight minutes. Of course there are likes and dislikes everywhere you go ... but general 'kindness' wouldn't kill anyone would it ??
When we were searching for a house, 3 years ago, we did most of our "looking" online. We put in our criteria and made our check-lists. It was a lot of fun figuring out what neighborhoods we liked and seeing how our ideas of 'what the perfect home is' would differ or match. Before long we had narrowed down our search and were ready to take the next step, open-houses.
On one of our notorious Sunday drives, we ended up using a well-known "cut-through" street that I grew up just a few blocks from. I never gave the area much thought, it wasn't exactly on my dream neighborhood list. However, we stumbled upon a nice, out-of-the-way cul-de-sac that I had never noticed before. The open-house sign is what drew my attention on this particular day. We decided, knowing full well that we couldn't afford the house that happened to be "open", to take a walk through for the hell of it. We pretty much fell in love with it. It had everything we wanted and then some. Despite the price tag, we moved in 3 weeks later.
I had always loved the idea of a close-knit community. The neighbor that you could borrow that cliché cup of sugar from, people that you can trust and call upon when you need something, block parties, dinner and drinks together, etc. I had hoped that this cute, little cul-de-sac would provide some of that goodness. Wrong.
We moved in during the cold weeks of December in 2005. We have met two people as of September 2009. "The lady" rolled her window down, to introduce herself, while driving up the street- and "the man" introduced himself to me while I was heading off to work one morning. They were both very nice. I have since spoken to "the lady" maybe twice (hollering hello from the backyard) and I have exchanged waves countless times with "the man" but have had no other contact. Now, I am not trying to play the victim role because I could have totally gone door-to-door with a basket of crap and introduced myself and my husband - but I'm clearly not "that guy".
I do understand that most neighborhoods nowadays do not have these so-called perfect neighbors that I think I am missing out on. I further understand that if it bothers me THIS much I should make the first move by ringing some doorbells and making some small talk. But the truth is - I really don't like anyone else on our street. Now you are thinking, "How can you not like them if you don't know them??" Well, sweet pea, here's how...
House A:
The "two, little kids and a big ol' white trash mama" house. She does nothing but yell at said two, little kids. Riding their bikes - yell. Sitting in their front yard - yell. Playing with their friends - yell. These kids can't swallow without getting yelled at.
House B:
The "I love to detail my car four times a week with T-Pain blasting out of my trunk" house. Yep. This kid washes his car like sixty-two times a month. Not only does he enjoy a super clean vehicle but he loves blaring the WORST possible music ever created. Lucky for me, he upgrades his speakers on the daily so I can hear those computer-generated voices CRYSTAL clear.
House C:
The "my family grows by the second" house. I thought only four people moved in but somehow there are eleven thousand current occupants. It used to be two children playing basketball - the other night it looked like The Knicks were out there.
House D:
The "no matter what you say, Mom, I'm going to give you the hugest attitude at the highest decibel" house. Well that one pretty much speaks for itself.
Anyway, you get what I am saying. Things aren't always as they seem. I felt so confident in our decision to buy this house and create our "home" here. We are happy for the most part.Well, I won't lie and say that I wouldn't love for someone to make eye contact with me for a smile or a wave. Or that when I have shoveled for two and a half hours and have barely made a dent that I wouldn't love for someone to bring over their snow-blower for eight minutes. Of course there are likes and dislikes everywhere you go ... but general 'kindness' wouldn't kill anyone would it ??
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